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"I'm just not going to pay the mortgage anymore. Thank you very much for your time, but you're not helping me." I hung up the phone. The escrow representative had frustrated me beyond all reason, so my empty threat was all I had left.

I was still lying in bed. Remembering to call the bank first thing this morning, I had reached for the phone and called before my feet ever hit the floor. Now I was whining and weeping, frustrated that the bank had made an error in my escrow and having no luck getting someone to make the correction. The error was costing me an extra $500 monthly, although the money was going into my escrow account. It has just been so infuriating to be strapped for cash when it's someone else's error.

S reached over to console me. I didn't want any financial help, nor to discuss it any longer, as I had made my way through 5 representatives in 3 departments discussing, and getting nowhere. His touch was all I wanted, all I needed. He stroked my back, kissed my chest and my arm, touched my hair, wiped my tears, and cuddled me. I relaxed in his embrace. His kiss on my lips pushed the thoughts of money from my head for a moment. When I pulled away to look in his eyes, the frustration came back. I pressed my lips to his quickly to push the bad feelings away. It worked. I kissed deeper this time, sucking his tongue and bottom lip. I felt my body begin to respond.

Pushing my tongue into his mouth, he pulled me into him, and the kiss was warm and soothing. My body became stimulated, my pussy started to moisten and all I could feel was passion. I pushed him on his back and climbed up on him. Straddling his hips, I pinned his shoulders to the bed and looked into his eyes.

"Your only purpose is to make me feel better right now. I need to feel better. Lie still and let Mistress feel better. Don't struggle. I need this right now."

I rode him hard, pressing his face to the side against the mattress, until my body shuddered with orgasm. Breathless, I collapsed on top of him, kissing his sweet face and thanking him for taking care of me. He groaned with pleasure, barely audible.

"May I come now Mistress?"

"Yes, Sweet Boy. Yes. You did a good job. Come on now, cum."

He grasped my hips, furiously fucking me from underneath, gasping with ecstasy as he came.

I'm not sure if I've ever used someone so blatantly before. When I was a kid, I made friends with a neighbor who had a pool, just so I could swim there. As a teen, I went to the prom with a guy I didn't really like, just to go to the prom. In my twenties, I dated guys just to go out to nice restaurants. I've even talked a few guys into helping me financially from time to time, even though I didn't really care much for them. But to use a man in this way, well, I'm sure I've never done that before.

By the same token, actions are not enough. Just going through the motions, following commands, can often be empty gestures. This is not submission. This is compliance. This is obedience. And sure, I appreciate compliance and obedience. Often these are a turn on. But do not mistake them with submission, because they are not.

S understands what I want. He understands my definition of submission. He knows when he's feeling submissive and knows when he's behaving submissive. More importantly, he knows the difference. I have no desire to command a servant who is only "acting" submissive. Christ, anyone can do that! Give a person a gun to hold against the head of a victim, and you have compliance and obedience. I know. I've had it done to me.

I was 18 years old that June when the intruder kicked in my back door and ran up into the loft, standing at the foot of my bed. He was pointing a gun at my face. I knew immediately that I was in grave danger, and these may be my final moments. I complied. For the next hour, as he robbed me, destroyed my apartment, raped me, ate food from my kitchen, killed my cat, and beat me bloody, I complied. That is, until I had had enough. Tied up on the floor, spitting blood, I rolled onto my back and stood up in one swift motion.

"Get the FUCK out of my apartment! What do you fucking want? You've taken everything. Now, GET THE FUCK OUT!!"

He ran out the door. I never saw him again.

What he didn't have was dominance over me. He never did. I complied. I acted "as if" for him, to save myself. He didn't get what he came for, because that was mine alone to give. One must give submission! No one can take that from another.

Fear does not bring submission. Just the opposite. Fear brings compliance. With S and I, only love brings submission. Only in the comfort of my arms can he let his guard down and give himself to me, freely and wholly, because he chooses to. I want nothing less than that, and only when I've earned it. Only when I've worked hard enough to make him feel safe can I have the satisfaction of his servitude.

This morning while cuddling, after his time confined to our bed for our Sunday Submission Project, I released him from his bonds. I told him he was free and he had served me well. My goal of 6 ejaculations was just a pretense for the project. What I had truly wanted was for him to feel insulated enough from his every day life to relax and surrender to his sexual being. In the actions there were very few minor differences between this sexual escapade and any other we may have. But emotionally, I feel we went deeper than we ever have before, sharing our ideas, feelings and thoughts on our D/s relationship frankly and lovingly. It was beautiful.

"I want to please you for the rest of you life," he softly declared as he held me tight and kissed my breasts.

I began to cry. I was so deeply touched by his surrender, his desire to please me, his loving affection and complete abandon, I wept uncontrollably. When I regained myself I kissed his forehead over and over, embracing him with all of my might.

"You're a good boy. You're a very, very good boy. I love you so! You're a very good boy."

Our therapist has been a Godsend! Clearing away the pain, the confusion, the misunderstandings and the myths has been incredibly freeing. Recently, I feel myself letting go of all of the lifelong sorrow I had stored in my heart and opening myself to love.

The other piece to the puzzle has been taking this journey with S. He has been so willing to bear himself, not just to me, but to our therapist, and share his pain. As I've said in the past, he has a very hard time communicating. But with her, he opens up and she understands him immediately; not in what he says, but what he doesn't say. She seems to feel what he means, his intention, and works with both of us to help us understand one another in a beautiful way.

What surprised, no shocked me, was the open-mindedness with which she embraced our D/s relationship. She sees this as beautiful, helpful, and nurturing for us both. She can be blunt, so I'm sure she is genuine in her advice. But for this 60+ year old woman, she continues to surprise me with her open mindset.

She's made no comments about the punishment, neither positive nor negative, but seems to view the entire interaction as healthy and loving. I punish S very little, and always help him turn the punishment into a reassuring experience. I've never spanked him without twice as much love and comfort afterwards. For some time, I was deeply concerned that this relationship framework was unhealthy. Our therapist has reassured me that it is completely healthy, and even emotionally helpful and rewarding.

I would never want to harm my Sweet Boy; not physically, mentally, nor emotionally. Being what he needs in life, soothing his broken soul, has been the most rewarding experience I've ever known.

My Sweet Boy lie in the bed beside me, declaring his devotion to me and his willingness to please me. I cleared my mind, able to relax in his embrace, his mouth resting upon my nipple to suckle, his hard cock pressed against my thigh. The precum began to ooze onto my skin and I relaxed into my cleared mind and pleasured body.

I realized S had but one purpose in these moments. His purpose is to please me sexually. Suddenly I wondered, how much cum could he produce in a 12-hour period? How many times could I arouse him, tease him, cum him, and rest him until he was completely spent? How much sex can he give, can he take?

I've decided to submerge him into complete submissiveness this Sunday. Beginning Saturday night, he will be confined to bed. He must wait until his "toilet time" to leave the bed, walk to the toilet, and return immediately. Aside from that, he must remain in the bed until he reaches my goal.

My goal will be that he must cum 6 times for me, in me, before he can leave the bed. If it takes him two days, then so be it. He may not use his phone, his computer, read or watch television until he has completed his task. The only exception to this is that I will be choosing some websites relating to him goal that he will be required to view.

I will keep him fed and watered, as I would any good pet, as well as cuddled and comforted. He can sleep and rest as he needs to. His only restriction will truly be to remain in our bed. His only goal, his only purpose, will be to submit completely and please me sexually.

I own him. I own his cum, even before it is produced. I own his body, his heart, his mind. But our souls are twin flames, burning together eternally.